Across the Universes SuperWhoLock
by StrikeMidnight
Summary: A story created from 20 randomly chosen gifs. You receive a text from JM and join forces with the Winchesters, Castiel, Sherlock, the Tenth Doctor, and more to defeat him. Gifs: tinyurl dot com slash h t t p dash strikemidnight dash tumblr dash c
1. Part 1

Part One:

You looked at the time; it was well past late and moving onto early the next day. The sun was already coming up and the outside was a dusky blue color. One more reblog, then bed. You jumped as your phone went off.

"Who the hell would be texting me now?" You asked your phone. You made your way to your inbox and read the following message:

Roof. I'm waiting - JM

Your eyes went wide. Was this some kind of joke? Who was this JM guy? You pondered over the names of people you knew and could not place someone with the initials 'JM.' Perhaps it was a wrong number. Perhaps it wasn't and there really was someone named 'JM" on the roof waiting to talk to you. That nagging voice in your head reminded you that this could be dangerous, but you decided to go anyway.

The sun was starting to peek over the horizon by the time you made your way up to the roof. You were held up by some breakfast. You crept quietly around the corner of the stairway and saw a man sitting on the ledge.

"Finally!" He shouted at you.

"I suppose you're JM?"

"Obviously. Jim Moriarty"

"What do you want?"

"I want you."

"What?"

"This Bitch," Jim sighed, his palm covering his face. He slowly lowered his palm and looked at you with dark, dead eyes. Your skin crawled.

"Um, What?"

"There's a man. He's on the side of the angels."

You raised an eyebrow and regretted ever coming up to the roof. "Okay…"

"Actually," Jim stood up and walked up to you, "he IS an angel."

Jim stared at you unblinkingly as you tried to comprehend what was happening. Maybe you should've brought a sword or a baseball bat.

"Is that a flirtation?" Another voice, this one gravelly came from behind you. You spun on your heels and found yourself nose to nose with an expressionless man in a tan trench coat. You nearly toppled over backwards, but remembered that Jim was directly behind you and shuffled sideways instead.

"There he is, the angel himself," Jim purred in his ever-changing tone.

"Wait, I saw this on Dean's computer," the man in the trench coat gave an exaggerated wink, flicked out his tongue in what you guessed was supposed to be seductive, smiled, and then immediately returned to his blank expression.

"Not bad, angel boy," You looked over at Jim, only this time his eyes were completely black.

"What the fuck?" You screamed.

"He's a demon!" Another voice joined the party. A man with a gruff voice but rather pretty face saddled up beside the 'angel' in the trench coat. He pulled out a knife and focused on Jim.

You squeezed your eyes tight and ran your hands over your face. "Fuck my life. Now what?"

The angel turned his attention to this new addition, the tip of his nose nearly brushing the new man's cheek. "Dean I think this demon was coming on to me. I tried that thing I saw on your computer, but –"

"Whoa! Whoa! Cas, I don't want to know," The man called Dean held his palms out to the angel 'Cas' indicating that that sentence needed to stop where it was.

"So he's a demon? Is that why his eyes went black?" You asked Dean and Cas. Dean turned and Cas once again was suddenly nose to nose with you.

"Yes he is a demon," Cas's voice rumbled, his breath on your cheek, "and you have to kill him."

"What?!" You and Dean both shouted at Cas.

"I'm sorry Dean, but since we don't actually exist in this universe we cannot kill Jim Moriarty."

"What the hell are you saying, Cas?" Dean's brows furrowed and his large eyes blazed.

"We don't exist here, Dean. Only someone who can exist in many universes can kill him. This," Cas poked you in the chest, "is a Fangirl."

Jim and Dean both gasped at this statement. You were downright lost. Sure you had multiple interests, but how did that give you power over anything? You looked at the three men, trying to get a feel for what being a Fangirl meant. Jim looked dangerously scared and seemed like he was ready to fight for his life. Cas, who was still an inch from you, stared at you almost reverently. A strong breeze rushed across the rooftop, ruffling Dean's shirt as he gazed at you with longing.

"My body is ready," he whispered into the breeze. Your head was going to explode.

"I don't know what my feelings are doing," You were moments from just running back home and hiding under the bed. But at the same time you felt excited, scared, empowered, confused, angry, and a little intrigued. With a rush of courage and a wink from Dean, you rushed at Jim. He was completely off guard, the look of surprise on his face genuine as you shoved him off the rooftop.

"BOOM! Suck it!" Dean yelled over the ledge as he watched Jim plunge to the sidewalk below. He turned and smiled at you. "Good work, beautiful."

"Um, thanks," you said as you made your way back to your flat. To your dismay, Cas and Dean followed. Once you were at your door you realized that you had locked yourself out.

"Are you locked out?" You looked past Cas and Dean and saw your neighbor Tom smirking at you.

"No," you lied, "I have a key somewhere."

"Oooh!" Tom hooted in a mocking tone, looking at Cas and Dean. "Am I not invited to the party?"

"Shut up, Tom," you grumbled, not in the mood for your mischievous neighbor.

"ehehehehehe," Tom threw his head back and laughed at your expense as he closed his door.

You were about to let loose a string of swears when you suddenly found yourself inside your flat. You looked to your left and verified that you were in your living room. You looked to your right and flinched as you saw Cas staring at you from an inch away.

"You seemed to have foolishly locked your door without bringing a method to unlock it when you return. So I just brought us inside."

"Um, thanks Cas," You patted him on the shoulder, and he seemed pleased by it.

A crash rang out from your bedroom and you sighed heavily. What could possibly be happening now?

"Sorry! Sorry!" A chirpy man's voice called out from the room. The man himself emerged with his hands up, showing that he was not a threat. He was wearing a brown suit, had messy, brown hair, and an expression of wonderment.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean growled at the man.

"I'm the Doctor. Who the hell are you?" the Doctor smiled widely, unfazed by Dean's disdain.

"He's an alien, Dean," Cas stated, his low voice a little perplexed. You look over and Cas was a millimeter from the Doctor.

"An alien? Really?" Dean stammered at Cas incredulously. "Come on!"

"An alien and a Fangirl all in one day," Cas looked off to the distance dreamily.

"Fangirl?" the Doctor looked over at you. He rubbed his hands together and winked at you. You had no idea what was inspiring these sudden flirtations, but it wasn't all that bad.

"Hey," Dean narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. You tried not to smile at Dean's jealousy._Definitely not all that bad._

"Well," the Doctor drew out the word, "I think we are after the same bloke. Moriarty?"

"Yeah," You, Dean, and Cas responded together. The Doctor chuckled.

"Are you triplets?"

"We are not related," Cas replied flatly. Dean covered his face with his hand.

"Ok, Doctor, what do you know about this Moriarty dude?"

"I know that only someone who exists in all universes can do him in. the Fangirl."

"I thought I just did that," you were starting to get a bit worried as to where this was going.

"The fall wouldn't kill him, just piss him off," Dean was pacing now. You were definitely getting nervous.

"Right! Well! Let's go and find him! Allons-Y!" the Doctor bolted for the door, Cas and Dean reluctantly following. You sigh again and take a step, only to find that there is a knife at your throat and you are being held.

"Sorry boys!" Jim Moriarty's voice came from behind you in a sing-song tone. He tightened his other arm around your waist. "Change of plans!"

"Let her go you dick or we will make you let her go!" Dean brandished the strange knife at Moriarty.

"No, you won't," the laughter was gone from Jim's voice. You felt the scenery change around you again like when Cas zapped you into your flat. Jim was no longer behind you, but you were not at home. You spin around and around, trying to figure out where you are.


	2. Part 2

Part Two:

The room was dark except for the moonlight that seeped in through the threadbare curtains covering the window behind you. You appeared to be in an old house that had not been lived in for years. Everything was coated in thick dust and cobwebs; the air was musty and thick and the furniture was covered in sheets.

You placed your ear to the door and listened, trying to gage the danger you were in. Silence on the other side of the door told you that no one else was home. Steeling yourself, you tried the door knob and the door swung open creakily.

A few quiet steps into the hallway showed that it was empty. Three more doors lead to rooms at the other end, but you just wanted to get the hell out of there. You headed the other way and found a stairway to the first floor. You bolted straight to the front door. It was locked and boarded up on the other side.

"Shit," you swore as you searched for something to pry the door open with.

"Trying to get out?" A strangely familiar voice registered from outside the door.

"Tom? Is that you? What the hell are you doing here?" You called back.

"Yes, it's me darling."

"Can you help me get out of here?"

"I could, yes. But I won't."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Why did we never go out?" Tom asked with sadness in his voice.

"What?"

"You heard me!"

You could hear him pacing outside the door, his footsteps speeding up as he spoke. You had no idea that Tom was interested in you and felt genuinely sorry to have hurt him. He could be a bit of a trickster, but all and all he was a very nice guy.

You sidestepped to the window next to the door and gently tugged the moth-eaten curtains open. Tom paced by and stopped when he saw you. He looked different. His hair was straight and black and he was wearing an intricate costume make of black leather and gold metal.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't know," You met his blue eyes. They looked pained.

"It does not matter now. It's too late. I've tried for months to get your attention," He was right up against the glass, staring down at you. "Months! Do you know how… frustrating that is?" His fist pounded the window and the pane shook under the blow. You closed the curtains and decided to see if there was a back door to the house. If worse came to worse, you could always bust out one of the dusty windows and hope Tom did not hear the break.

The kitchen was the room most likely to have a back door, and you made your best judgment as to where it would be based on the house's layout. Still taking care to not make any unnecessary noise, you found the area that was once a kitchen. There was indeed a door on the far wall and you went to dash to it, but something caught you around the waist and pulled you around the corner of the doorway.

"Let me go!" You screamed, your breath huffing out in a cloud from your lips. Whoever had a grip on you was impossibly strong.

"It's a trap," A low female voice whispered into your ear. Just as she whispered that, the sparse furniture in the kitchen began to fly about the room, crashing all around. Drawers and cabinets opened, spilling cutlery and plates everywhere. You stopped struggling and the unknown woman loosened her grip. You stumbled away from the doorway.

"What the hell is that?" The air was impossibly cold all around you and your breath was still visible. You turned to look at your rescuer and saw a young woman in a tattered red dress smiling coyly at you.

"Poltergeist far as I know, and I would be the one to know!"

"Who are you?"

"I'm your hero! But you can call me Oswin." Something was not quite right about her and the cold was really starting to bite into your skin. Just then, her image flickered and the truth dawned on you.

"You-you're a ghost!"

"Yes," She waved her hand at you as if her being a spirit wasn't the point, "I'm also the reason the unfriendlies outside can't get inside. I'm keeping you two safe."

"Us _two_?" You caught the word and tossed it back, "There's someone else here?"

"Yes. Didn't you…" Her brow furrowed, "I hope he didn't try and escape again."

"Wha-," Your brain was starting to feel like soup, "Why can't they get inside?"

"I found a few different ways to keep out the baddies."

"How did you know what to do?"

"Is there a word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and a tiny bit sexy?" She grinned even bigger, her hands on her hips.

"Doctor," a voice you had heard earlier chimed in, "They call me the Doctor."

You spun and the Doctor was standing a few paces away. His sudden appearance was a blessing, but still scared the living daylights out of you. Apparently Oswin has been startled as well; she was nowhere to be seen.

"Doctor! How did you get in here?" He was wearing a long, brown trench coat and black rimmed glasses. His careless smile played around his mouth as he looked around the room.

"Parked my TARDIS inside. Upstairs," He pointed to the ceiling, "Bit tricky, all kinds of booby traps and protection on this house. Brilliant really!" The Doctor grinned hugely and gave you an equally huge wink and hug.

"Can we get out of here now?" You asked as he pulled away from the embrace.

"Well," he put his hands in his pockets and paced, his face taking on a look of frustration, "I'd love to leave, but the other fellow is giving me grief. Can you help me get him into the TARDIS?"

"What…oh never mind. Yeah, let's go"

You followed the Doctor back up the stairs; the cold air that Oswin had brought was completely gone. She really had saved your life and you said a silent thank you to her as the place she had been went out of view.

The Doctor led you down the hallway you had avoided previously and through the last door on the right. This room appeared to once have been a study judging by the shelves of ancient books and the writing desk in the center. There was a small fire in the fireplace and the flickering light threw off your vision, making it so you could not see the figure at the desk.

"I'm still not going," a baritone voice came from the person at the desk, "How stupid do you think I am?"

You squinted your eyes from the firelight and he came into focus. A striking-looking man was sitting at the desk wrapped in what appeared to be one of the white sheets that covered the furniture. Judging from the clean surface, this sheet had been draped over the desk. His piercing eyes locked onto you.

"Who the hell are you?" His brow wrinkled in disdain.

"Um, what's your problem?"

"My problem?" His face was scornful and his tone was stinging, "My problem is that I was in the bath then I was here. My problem is that I'm wrapped up in a filthy furniture cover. My problem is that this idiot comes sauntering in and expects me to just shove off with him. Shall I go on?"

"Sorry I asked," You turned back to the Doctor, "Why can't we just leave him?"

"We can't just leave him," the Doctor's face was serious, "it just wouldn't do."

"Regardless of what your moral obligations dictate, I'm. Not. Going," the man at the desk strongly punctuated the last three words.

You looked to the Doctor for the next move. He sighed, and looked back at you with an equal amount of "what do we do now" in his eyes. Just then, a house-shaking crash resonated from downstairs. The man in the sheet was standing now, a look of alarm on his angular face.

"Ready to go now?" The Doctor asked the sheet-wrapped man. The man pursed his lips for a moment, and then swore as he crossed the room to follow.

"How are we getting out?" You called over another deafening crash.

"The TARDIS is over here," The Doctor led you and the other man to the door diagonal to the room you were in. Another crash and the house trembled.

"I think they are taking out a wall!" You yelled over the din.

"Obviously," the man in the dusty sheet said snidely from behind you. The Doctor had taken out a strange device from his coat pocket and was pointing it at the doorknob. A blue light and a strange buzzing emitted from the item. Heavy footsteps sounded up the stairs.

"Almost got it!"

The footsteps reached the peak of the stairs and your eyes met the eyes of Jim Moriarty.

"There you all are!" Jim held his hands out in welcome. "Are you ready for a game?"

"Godsakes," the man in the sheet pulled the Doctor away from the door.

"Hey!" the Doctor hollered as he stumbled backwards. The man in the sheet rushed the door with his shoulder, popping it open and nearly losing his sheet in the process. The Doctor ran past you to the police box in the far corner of the room. Moriarty was in the doorway, his head lulling ever so slightly from side to side.

"Jim, this isn't playing fair!" The man in the sheet roared.

"Oh, Sherlock," Moriarty cooed then cocked his head to the side as if he were listening to something far away. "You know what? Jim agrees. He thinks I'm taking all the fun out of yours and his little game." Jim brought his hand from behind his back and pointed a pistol at Sherlock.

"NO!" the Doctor bellowed as he leapt forward, putting himself in front of the gun.

"Don't think I won't shoot you. What the—"The room grew cold and the door slammed in Jim's face. The form of Oswin manifested in front of the door, holding it against the raging demon on the other side.

"GO!" She shouted. The three of you bolted for the TARDIS without hesitation. The Doctor pulled the doors closed once you and Sherlock were inside and dashed to the center of the room. He made a mad display of using his feet and hands to flip and pull the multitude of odd switches on what looked to be a control panel.

"That was a close one!" The Doctor exclaimed. Sherlock grumbled something under his breath. The Doctor looked over at Sherlock, who was still wrapped in a musty sheet. "Be right back," he said over his shoulder as he wondered off, leaving you and Sherlock standing in the impossible room.

"It's bigger on the inside," You said, your head spinning.

"This isn't possible," Sherlock wrapped the sheet tighter around his shoulders.

"_Obviously_ it is possible. We're standing in it," you retorted, mocking the tone he used on you earlier.

"Oi! Here you are Ceasar," The Doctor returned with a bundle of clothing which he handed to Sherlock.

"Where are Dean and Cas?" You inquired. Sherlock unabashedly dropped his sheet and got dressed.

"They are checking on a few things back at your flat," the Doctor peered at the screen above the panel and turned an odd-shaped knob, "and here we are."

The Doctor motioned for you and the now clothed Sherlock to follow him outside. He cracked the door open and peered outside.

"Oh, uh," the Doctor paused.

"Problem?" Sherlock called over your shoulder.

"No. Well, maybe a little," the Doctor stepped outside, "I think my aim was a bit off." You exited the TARDIS and Sherlock behind you. The three of you were in a cramped space filled with cleaning supplies. The muffled music could be heard from somewhere inside the building. The Doctor used his device on the door, and then used it again once the three of you had exited presumably to relock the door.

"Sounds like a party!" the Doctor face lit up. Without another word he sprinted towards the music.

"Bloody idiot," Sherlock grumbled as he chased after you and the Doctor.

Sure enough there was a wedding reception. The Doctor stood in the doorway and scanned the room, Sherlock and you behind him at either shoulder.

"HA! Look at that fella!" The Doctor pointed across the room to the dance floor. A man in a tuxedo sporting a white bowtie was doing an odd dance across the room. His arms were straight up over his head, bobbing back and forth as his hair flopped all around. The bride, a tall redhead laughed loudly then joined in the dancing.

"Oh God," Sherlock tilted his head back in exasperation, "I think I'd rather have been shot."

"Doctor, we need to get back to Dean and Cas," You tug at the Doctor's coat.

"Yes! Right! Sorry! I love a party. Allons-Y!"

You, Sherlock, and the Doctor cross the street to your building. Dean was standing in the entry way in a talking to an older man in a suit.

"Gross," Dean's face scrunched up and he blinked, "No thank you." The other man shrugged and walked away.

"What was that about?" You asked Dean who still looked disgusted.

"You don't want to know," he shook his head. He then pulled out his strange dagger and glared at Sherlock. "Who the hell is this guy?"

"He was in the house as well," the Doctor stepped between Dean and Sherlock, pressing a finger on the knife to lower it. Dean did not look happy and neither did Sherlock, but no more threats were made.

You headed up to your flat, grateful to be somewhere familiar. A pang of remorse hit you when your eyes fell upon Tom's door.

It only took about one step into the door before Cas was nearly standing on top of you. You walked past him into the room and he followed, keeping a close proximity.

"You were gone for days. I'm glad to see that you are safe, Fangirl," Cas held out his arms, his face unchanged. You sighed and hugged the angel.

"Dean, I think I found what we were looking for," an unfamiliar voice said from behind you. You tried to pull away from Cas, but he held on.

"That is Sam Winchester. Dean's brother," Cas's voice rumbled from your shoulder.

"Oh. Okay," You tried again to separate yourself from Cas, but he held on. Dean walked over and intervened. Cas was disappointed to learn that hugs did not usually last for extended periods of time.

You, Dean, Sam, the Doctor, Cas, and Sherlock spent the next few hours going over how the six of you could get the demon back into its universe.

"Once he is back in our realm, then its routine demon clean-up," Sam explained to you, his voice was comforting and reassuring.

"So these demons need a body to possess?" Sherlock asked Sam, whom seemed to be his preferred person to talk to.

"They can exist outside of a body, but they are basically smoke in that form. You can't contain them."

"It's simple," Sherlock smiled smugly, "get the demon to possess one of you lot, then take it home."

"NO!" The Doctor and Dean protested.

"It's actually not a bad idea," Sam looked at Dean and the Doctor, "I'll do it."

"Once the demon is inside you, I can hold it long enough to take us back," Cas stated, staring at Sam.

Having the workings of a plan in motion, you started to feel the events of the day weighing on your shoulders and decided to go and get some air.

"I'll join you," Sherlock said. You and Sherlock stepped out into the hall and walked past Tom's door. Suddenly something slammed into you, sending you tumbling backwards. The wind was blasted from your lungs and you started to black out. You could hear fighting and your door being flung open. Someone lifted you and carried you back into your place.

It took a few moments, but you were able to sit up and see what had happened. You blinked over and over until you were able to make out the unconscious form of your neighbor Tom on the floor. e was still wearing the strange metal and leather costume he was in when you saw him last.

Sherlock was pacing, his long fingertips pressed together and propped under his chin. The Doctor had his device – sonic screwdriver he had called it — and was scanning Tom. Dean and Cas were reading from a strange book and occasionally splashing water onto Tom. Sam was on his cell phone.

"Dean, he is not possessed," Cas took the book from Dean's hand.

"He did go down pretty easy," Dean concluded, "his body was not ready."

"He's not an alien or a copy or a robot or hologram or clone or," The Doctor looked up to see that everyone was looking at him, "Well, he's just human."

"Nothing stands out in his personal history either," Sam said as he hung up the call.

"I've known him for a few months. He could be a little obnoxious at time, but just in fun. Really lovely guy actually," you added to the pile of facts about Tom.

"What about you, cheekbones?" Dean called over to Sherlock who was now sitting on the couch. Sherlock ignored him. Dean raised his voice, "HELLO?"

"Dean, chill. Sorry," Sam apologized to Sherlock then turned back to Dean, "He probably doesn't know anything that we haven't already found out. No big deal."

Sherlock rose up from the couch, his face set in concentration.

"Maybe he does," the Doctor said, "do you?"

"Not much," Sherlock's voice was teasing, "Only that this man suffers from insomnia, is being blackmailed, and strongly fancies her," Sherlock tilted his head in your direction. Everyone looked at you and your cheeks burned.

"Right you are," the Doctor was nodding at Sherlock, looking very impressed. "That's brilliant!"

"You are very intelligent," Cas said quietly, suddenly standing an inch from Sherlock who didn't seem to care about the invasion of personal space.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell just happened?" Dean shouted, his hands flying up over his head.

"His physical appearance, his eyes are bloodshot, bags under them. Severe lack of coordination when I fought him. I would usually conclude that he is drunk, but I did not smell alcohol, so he hasn't been sleeping. For quite a while it seems. As far as I can tell he is a normal man that's been down on his luck which can make someone an easy target for anyone wanting to take advantage of them, but not him. He did try to fight all five of us in the state he is in so he's no push-over. So they had to get personal," Sherlock walked over to you, his eyes fixed onto yours, "and what better way to make a man take up arms then to threaten the life of the person he cares most about. He would do anything to make sure you are safe even if it meant breaking a few eggs along the way."

"He's riiiiiight," sang the voice of Jim Moriarty from behind you. You sprinted forward, putting distance between you and Jim before turning to face him. Dean, Cas, and Sam stood in front of you all three of them ready to fight. The Doctor was looking back and forth between them, presumably trying to think of a solution that did not involve violence. Sherlock had sat back down on the couch and was looking sour. You took a step back and nearly toppled over Tom.

"Time to end this, you demon son of a bitch," Dean growled at Jim who made a face of mock fear.

"Try not to kill Jim if you can manage, we have unfinished business," Sherlock said casually from the couch, his fingertips together and his gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Why don't you just return to your world? For a fair fight!" the Doctor chimed in.

"Boys, boys, boys," Jim held up his hands, "You disappoint me!"

A groan came from the floor and you looked down to see Tom stirring. The Doctor walked over and helped Tom to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Tom croaked to you, his blue eyes sorrowful.

"It's okay Tom. I'm safe, you're safe. It's all okay," you reassured him.

"No," Tom's voice was pained, "I'm sorry for this." Before you could react, Tom had you tightly in his grasp, his right hand wrapped around your neck.

"Not cool," Dean glared and pointed at Tom then walked to the far end of the room.

"Totally not cool," Sam added, and then walked over to Dean.

"Ooh! A new development!" Jim cackled, and then sat down on the couch beside Sherlock. He leaned forward in an exaggerated position as if he were watching the television. "Let's see what happens next."

"This happens you dick," Dean scowled as he sprayed Jim with what you assumed was holy water. Jim sighed heavily and wiped the water from his eyes.

"Really? " He brushed the water from his expensive looking suit jacket, "This is Westwood you moron, not that you would—"

Moriarty stopped talking as Cas was suddenly standing directly over him. The angel pressed his palm against Jim's forehead, a look of concentration on his normally blank face.

"What are you doing," Jim's voice was flat and annoyed. Cas's face became puzzled and he withdrew his hand.

"Enough, I'm boooored of this," Moriarty looked from face to face lazily, "You guys can't beat me here. I have your only chance by the throat," his eyes brightened in amusement, "Literally!"

"No," Sherlock said, turning his head slowly to face Jim.

"No?" Moriarty's face was inquisitive, "Do tell."

"As you can clearly see here," Sherlock reached into his suit jacket, presumably to pull out a note or photograph, but instead he whipped out the strange dagger of Deans and thrust it firmly into Jim's flank.

"Hey! That's mine!" Dean hollered as he patted down his pockets to ensure his dagger was indeed gone.

"What," Jim's expression changed from bemusement to fear as orange light crackled from his eyes. Sherlock pulled out the dagger and tossed it over to Dean.

"You forget, dear Jim, that I am also of this universe," Sherlock purred.

You felt Tom's grip loosen and shoved away from him, sending him crashing into a pile of file boxes that were stacked in the corner.

"Now, Fangirl! " Cas grabbed yours and Sam's hands, then planted your palm firmly onto Jim's forehead. The room began to tremble as the crackling light intensified. Jim struggled under your hand, but could not break the connection. An inhuman roar billowed up from inside Jim then tore loose from his mouth followed by a torrent of black smoke that flew directly into Sam's mouth. Jim's head lulled back and Sam began to thrash, trying to break Cas's grip.

"Now Cas! Now!" Dean screamed.

Cas turned to you, his expression almost imperceptibly sad. "Farewell Fangirl. Your hugs are unmatched." Then in a blink, Cas , Dean, and Sam were gone.

"You alright?" The Doctor was helping Tom up from the pile of boxes.

"Yes," Tom said quietly, "I'll be fine now."

"Is he alive?" You asked, standing over the unmoving body of Jim Moriarty.

Sherlock put two long fingers on Jim's neck. You got the sense that Sherlock was hoping that Jim was still alive, but not because of the sanctity of life or some other reason of good morals. Sherlock wanted Jim to be alive because they had unfinished business. Sherlock's face was falling into a look of disappointment, and then suddenly brightened and he leapt to his feet, digging his phone out from his trouser pocket. Sherlock quickly dialed and put the phone to his ear.

"Yes, I need an ambulance."


End file.
